Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and Doctor Who belongs to BBC. The Daleks belong to the Terry Nation estate.

Chapter 1 – The Watch

The Black family tree was ugly. It truly was.

Not in the metaphorical sense. Well, truth be told, it was also ugly in the metaphorical sense, with all that incest. But what Harry meant was the artistic representation of the tree that was in Sirius's house.

Perhaps if the Blacks had picked another artist, then he could appreciate it, but what they had here was just an absolute abomination.

"What's that weird noise?"

Harry blinked, and realized what he was doing.

"Sorry, it's just me messing with my watch's chain."

Harry took the pocket watch from his pocket, showing it to Sirius. His reaction was not what he expected.

"You still have that old thing?"

Sirius's voice was of surprise.

"You've seen this before?"

He nodded. "Back when your father and I were at Hogwarts, your grandfather took us to the Necropolis because they were renovating the Potter vaults and -"

But Harry had to interrupt him.

"The Necropolis?"

"Oh, it's an old wizard graveyard. It has so many mausoleums that it looks more like a city than a cemetery. Anyway, since the damn thing was crumbling, your grandfather opened the tombs and took out any valuable trinkets before they were renovated. Most were put into the vault in Gringotts. That watch was one of them. Your father took it out when you were born and gave it to you."

"Why?"

"Tradition. Wizards receive a watch when they are born, and another when they become seventeen. It's supposed to be symbolic – the beginning of a new age for the adult wizard. Lots of 'tradition' can go to the rubbish, but that one's nice enough. It was your grandfather that gave me my second watch."

Harry looked at the watch and traced the patterns on it.

"It's weird though," continued Sirius. "Whoever that watch belonged to, he lived before pocket watches were invented. Your father and I joked that that Potter had been a time traveller."

Something about that sentence seemed to resonate with Harry. He would later think back to this and remember the watch had briefly become warmer at the mention of time travel.

"Well, he could have fixed it before giving it to me. It's broken."

"Pretty sure there's a shop in Diagon Alley that fixes all kinds of watches," suggested Sirius. "Non-muggle ones, of course. I could go with you, but… well, you know."

"Never bothered. The damn thing doesn't even open."

Really, he just kept it around for… some reason. Sentimental value.

Sirius laughed. "If you never opened it, then how do you know it's broken?"

Huh. True that. But it wasn't right. It didn't felt right. Not yet at least.

That much he knew.

Harry watched silently as Dolores Umbridge gave her little speech to the students. Hermione too listened to Umbridge, but that was to be expected from her. He was finding her to be quite unnerving. Even more so than she had been during his trial. Still, she certainly seemed to be a rather unpleasant woman. Not to mention how condescending her speech was being.

What was she thinking? They were not five-year-old children! At best, she would annoy all students because of her attitude.

Who was he kidding, he was already annoyed by Umbridge. The very presence of that toad-faced woman was generating many unsavoury thoughts.

"You won't get any sympathy from me, bloody toad," he muttered.

Since she had been appointed by the minister, she would certainly prove to be an obstacle to him, and considering those who loved to antagonize him in the school, it would be in his best interest to keep the Slytherins under a close watch. She would certainly attempt to ally with them, knowing how well Slytherins opposed Dumbledore. They would have to be… to be…

… watched.

Watched.

They would have to be watched.

Especially now, that Voldemort had returned. Obviously, there were Voldemort supporters in all houses, but Slytherin was practically filled with soon-to-be Death Eaters. Of course, a house which thrives on blood supremacy would certainly follow that path. But what could he do? Sneaking into their common room a few years ago had been stressful enough, so trying to keep them under control would very well be far worse. But for his own sake, and that of his friends, Umbridge had to be deprived of any possible allies within the school. Without them, her influence would certainly be restricted, and any harm she could cause would possibly be toned down. It was a viable hypothesis, but to be put into reality, it would require a lot of work.

"…trying to control Hogwarts."

He turned to the side, being drawn into Hermione's conversation. She had reached the same basic conclusion as he did, yet his brother and Ron apparently did not manage to do so.

"Good luck with that," muttered Harry loud enough for the others to hear. "She'll have riots."

"She has the Ministry backing her Harry!" hissed Hermione. "You were tried by a full Wizengamot because of underage magic. You know what Fudge is capable of doing."

Harry simply shrugged.

"Any bets on how she goes?" asked Ron. "I'm putting down poisoned by Snape."

Indeed, Snape seemed to be visible disgusted by Umbridge, the woman sitting right next to him.

"I say falling down the Great Staircase," proposed Harry. "Hermione?"

She muttered something suspiciously close to "chocking on a bone", much to Harry and Ron's amusement.

He turned to watch Umbridge and Snape again, and Harry was finding bliss in witnessing Snape's current discomfort.

A shame it wouldn't last for long.

It seemed that his suspicions of the woman were correct. Except that they proved to be real, far earlier than what he had originally expected. And planned.

It had been his own stupidity and recklessness that had placed in in this situation, despite warnings from Hermione, which he had foolishly ignored for some reason he could not perceive. And so now there he was, sitting in Umbridge's hideously decorated office, with said witch on front of him with her usual sickly smile, handing him a rather peculiar quill.

"You are to write 'I must not tell lies'," ordered Umbridge, in a eerie and calm manner.

That was… a rather tame detention. "How many times?"

"As long as it takes for the message to sink in, Mr. Potter," she said. "You may begin."

She watched as Harry moved to begin writing, before he stopped.

"I have no ink, professor," he pointed out.

He could swear he heard Umbridge giggle. "Oh, you won't need any ink."

There were inkless quills, but those were rather expensive. He was surprised that Umbridge would give him one to write. Yet the moment he wrote those words down, Harry had to contain a gasp of pain.

She dares…

The words he had written were in a clear red colour, and as he glanced down at the source of the pain, he realized that on the back of his right hand were the same words, carved into his skin. Immediately, the wound began to heal, leaving the area normal, yet visibly swollen.

Umbridge was watching him with that hideous smile, clearly knowing what exactly had happened.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

You cannot remain passive for long…

He looked at her, trying to ignore the whispers on his mind.

"Nothing."

He simply continued, writing those accursed words, quickly realizing that his own blood was the "ink".

He did not know how much time had passed inside that office, but only when he left it could Harry feel relief. His hand was still in pain, and while he had no visible scars, the back remained swollen. The pain he felt turned into rage and hatred towards that toad-faced Umbridge. But then his thoughts went back to the voices he had heard.

He was alone, within the empty and dark corridors of Hogwarts, and taking refuge in a secluded corner, Harry sat down and reached into his robes, taking out the pocket watch. It felt… strange. Warmer.

Different.

He had this watch for his entire life, and never before had it stood out in such a way. Every day and night he had kept the watch with him, but only since Sirius noticed it did he also realize the whispers. But why?

Why was the watch reacting like that now? It made no sense!

"What are you?"

And the watch seemed to reply, and he heard the voice in his head, so similar to his, but yet so different. The same voice that had spoken to him in the office.

"You have held me your entire life. You have been shaped by my presence."

"Shaped?"

Harry didn't like what the watch's voice was implying.

"You have held eternity in your mind. Dreams of yourself, and yet not yourself."

He had dreams, yes.

Besides those of Voldemort, his dreams were strange. But he had never thought on them. They had been dreams, after all.

Dreams of bright stars and dark stars. Of an end that was a name. Of great vampires whose hands could crush towers. Of times and untimes. Of anchors and threads. Of a tower of dark and a sleep of living dreams. Of waking up to an unending war.

Of Daleks.

Of peace.

Of hate.

Of fear.

Of Cybermen.

Of Gallifrey.

"Gallifrey," he repeated.

The word held a certain nostalgia. It comforted him for some reason. But it also brought sadness.

And regret.

Once again, Harry's fingers traced the patterns of the watch, one finding itself on the button at the top. Could he open it? Yes, he could. But was it wise?

No, it certainly was not. But then again, he wasn't known for being wise.

A simple touch was required. It was all that the watch needed before Harry unleashed the light within. The majestic light which nearly blinded his eyes, turning into a golden dust he could nearly inhale. He felt an immense power and will emerging from within the opened watch… entering his own mind and being. It didn't feel invasive. Instead it felt as if it was filling a part which had been missing, and he had never noticed.

But it didn't matter now.

The light had now faded, and Harry felt extremely light. It was as if he had woken from a long sleep, and his entire being was yet adjusting to the meld between the minds. And it was then that he noticed.

"Oh, that's interesting."

It was something so bizarre and yet so simple and obvious, which bewildered him entirely.

"I'm young."

Author's Note:

This story draws a bit on a plot-bunny I had back in my previous account, but just for the first chapters.

So, the general idea is that Harry has a Chameleon Arch that belonged to a Time Lord who turned himself into a human. Said Time Lord happens to be his ancestor. And since he's had it for his entire life, and he still has a tiny bit of Time Lord DNA because it just can't be completely smothered by Human DNA, even after centuries, the Watch gradually shaped Harry's mind and body into allowing them to be compatible enough with the Time Lord within.

The result is that while Harry doesn't get his consciousness and personality utterly overwritten by the Time Lord's own, they both get melded into a new one. I would ask you to guess who the Time Lord is, but I'm pretty sure you've seen the fic's characters in the description. If you haven't, then do feel free to guess.

And don't look. That's cheating!

Also, I severely dislike the whole Timeless Child thingy, and that will translate into this fic.